


King Of The Jungle

by Hekate1308



Series: The Crowley Chronicles [38]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 13, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 02:31:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Dean hasn’t told Sam and Cas yet, because he’s pretty sure they’d laugh if he explained he feels like he’s transforming into a Disney princess.Not the falling asleep for a hundred years or the biting into poisoned apple part, but he’s rather sure that animals have started to try and communicate with him.Crowley survival story.





	King Of The Jungle

**Author's Note:**

> Did you miss me? I missed this.

Dean hasn’t told Sam and Cas yet, because he’s pretty sure they’d laugh if he explained he feels like he’s transforming into a Disney princess.

Not the falling asleep for a hundred years or the biting into poisoned apple part, but he’s rather sure that animals have started to try and communicate with him.

Another reason he hasn’t mentioned it is because… well, if this is a spell or an attack, it’s a pretty lame one.

First time it happened, he barely paid attention to the rat hovering near where the body was found. After all, they were in a pretty grim part of town, so why shouldn’t there have been rats?

But then – Sam and Cas had just stepped away to talk to the witness – it darted out of the shadows and dragged something out of the victim’s flesh, laying it at Dean’s feet before vanishing as quickly as it had come.

It turned out to be the claw of a lamia. He pretended he’d spotted it and focused on dealing with the thing quickly. After all, it could have just been a fluke. Rat felt hungry, rat realized what it had taken wasn’t edible, rat threw it away. And it accidentally landed in front of him.

It was easier to believe than that there was some secret society of rats – and that they had suddenly decided to help him out.

So yeah, he decided that it was in his best interest not to think about it too much.

But from that moment on…

The rat wasn’t the last helpful animal they came across. And yet, they only ever seemed to focus on Dean and Dean alone.

_A cemetery late at night, a werewolf on the prowl, Sam, Dean and Cas doing their best to encircle and dispatch it._

_It attacks Dean from behind – he must be getting old – and he only has time to think that it seems like he’s finally reached the end of the line when out of the blue a wolf – a real one – appears and drags the werewolf away from him._

_Then, it jumps between the two of them, glancing at Dena as if to say Catch your breath, I’ve got this, and isn’t that an idiotic thing to assume an animal is telling him._

_“Thanks” he breathes regardless. The wolf keeps the werewolf at bay until Dean can gank him and then disappears._

* * *

_They are having some free time for once, and Dean insisted on going to the beach. They really deserve a holiday. Not even Sam put up much of a resistance._

_Of course they’d end up in a town with shtriga activity._

_That, at least, is unsurprising, because of course they can never catch a freaking break._

_What is – well, Dean will be the first to admit that he didn’t assume he was going to be alerted to the fact that something was after the children by a cat walking up to him and dropping a newspaper in front of his feet._

* * *

_Freaking wraiths, man._

_That’s all Dean can think as he’s dragged underwater. With a few practiced moves, he’s soon free of the creature’s hold and ready to –_

_As it turns out, he doesn’t need to do anything else since the next thing he sees is a seal – a freaking_ seal _in a_ lake _– tearing it apart._

_He blinks and it’s gone._

* * *

Currently they’re working a case somewhere in Missouri – witches. God, Dean still hates their guts, Rowena helping them out occasionally notwithstanding (and sometimes in his darkest nights he will even admit to himself why he has no problem with her popping in now and then).

Point is, they’re looking for the witch’s den, having split up to be faster; once upon a time, Cas would have been able to find them instantly, but since he came back from the dead with diminished powers (but at least he came back, unlike – not that Dean thinks about that a lot, because it’s complicated and he doesn’t need to make things even worse by brooding on them), and Dean is walking down a street when he hears –

The cry of an eagle.

Now, he’s pretty sure eagles stay out of towns, but then, with his new-found status as a beacon for all animal life within five miles of wherever they are currently staying, he is less surprised than he should be. He looks up. Yep, that’s an eagle right there – it cries out one more time, seems to look down at him, then sweeps east.

Dean really should know better than to follow it, so naturally he does.

And wouldn’t you know it? It leads him right to the witch’s place.

So what if he lies when Sam asks how he found it later? He simply got lucky, that’s all.

But the eagle was the last straw nonetheless, and so he starts doing research. There has to be an explanation for him suddenly turning into the king of the jungle.

Nothing he finds fits the bill, though. Most spells that send animals after people are pretty nasty and tend to make the animals attack, but that’s not what has been happening. On the contrary.

And Dean thinks of the wolf, jumping in front of him with a backward glance that seemed entirely too intelligent –

No. Scratch that. Yeah, the wolf seemed sentient, but more than that –

Something about it was familiar. As if Dean had known it before it came to his rescue –

It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s all he has.

Something he knows.

It’s when he suddenly thinks that it doesn’t have to be something but could very well be someone that he comes across the solution.

A solution.

But one he desperately wants to be true because – well, because –

Just because. Does everything have to have a reason, now? God knows enough has happened to them already.

And if it were true –

But it can’t be, surely.

No; he’ll just wait and see. Maybe he’ll find out the truth.

* * *

When he does, it’s in a rather unspectacular fashion. He has come to study every animal they come across, since whoever or whatever is following him can hardly just stumble across their hunts by accident – they have to keep close by, to make sure they can react at the right moment; and one day, he spots a Dalmatian patiently sitting on the kerb on the other side of the street, doing its best not to look at their motel, but Dean knows.

And so he decides to leave through the backdoor and sneak up on it, telling Sam and Cas he’s going to get burgers.

It’s pure luck that he manages not to alert the dog, really – the wind’s blowing into his face, so it doesn’t pick up his scent, and it’s still there after he gets around the block.

Once he comes close though, it jumps in the air, turning around –

Showing Dean its eyes.

Red eyes.

And granted, he never really saw them like that, but he knows that look. “Crowley. Long time no see.”

The dog tilts its head to the side in a pretty good imitation of Cas’ signature move, but Dean won’t be fooled so easily. “Come on. I know it’s you. Or are you going to tell me just any random wolf came to my rescue at that cemetery?”

He’s fervently hoping that no one’s paying attention to the apparently crazy guy berating a dog on the sidewalk.

If that’s in any way possible, the dog looks contrite. “I assume you can’t talk.”

It’s wearing  a collar, and Dalmatians aren’t exactly cheap, so Dean presumes any time now an annoyed pet owner is going to show up. “Look, we need to talk. Any chance you can get a meat suit, just for a few minutes?”

It might not be exactly ethical to allow Crowley to possess a random person, but he really needs to know what Crowley’s deal is, and what he’s been thinking, just running after them and helping out when he could have just knocked on the bunker’s door. Yeah, Dean did punch him in the face the last time he showed up, but he was understandably upset at the time, and that has to count for something.

He watches the Dalmatian run off and goes to a nearby park, confident that Crowley will find him. When a man approaches the bench he’s sitting on, Dean almost has to laugh – leave it to the demon to find a meat suit that looks remarkably like the one that got left behind in the Apocalypse world, maybe with a few years shaved off. Guy’s even got a beard.

“There you are. Now can we talk about this like adults?”

Crowley sits down next to him, clearly moping. Dean rolls his eyes but can’t suppress a smile.

Man, it feels good to have him back.

When Crowley looks up, he seems taken aback, then clears his throat. “What is it, Squirrel?”

Alright, the new voice will take a bit to get used to. “What do I – you are the one who decided to go all magical fairytale companion on me!”

Crowley shrugs and does his best to look unaffected by all of this, which would probably work if Dean didn’t know him better than most. “I needed to lie low. Every demon in Hell is after me, and I’m not as strong as I used to be.”

“Strong enough to take on a werewolf, at any rate” Dean says. “Wait, since when is hanging around us considered “lying low”?”

“It’s the last place anyone would think of looking for me” Crowley replies smoothly.

Dean has to admit there’s some logic behind that. Begrudgingly, of course. “So what are your plans for the immediate future? I imagine suitable empty meat suits who aren’t rotting aren’t easy to come by.”

“There are always more animals” Crowley says with a sigh. “I assume you won’t let me keep the accountant from Kansas?”

“Nope, but you just gave me an idea.” Dean stands up. “Let’s go to a shelter.”

* * *

“No.”

“Crowley” Dean hisses. “This is not some Disney movie where we walk in, grab Pongo and drive off into our happily ever after. You can’t expect to find some pretty dog in a shelter.”

“But –“

“Look I know it’s not ideal. But you want something sturdy, like this bull dog.”

“To help you out during hunts. Got it.” Now Crowley sounds downright disgusted, and Dean can’t blame him. If Cas hates being called their attack dog, how much worse must it be for someone who was treated like an actual dog by the devil?

“No” he says casually because the subject hasn’t come up yet, “But Juliet needs someone strong to play with.”

“Juliet?”

Dean shrugs, looking anywhere but at Crowley. “She just showed up. Didn’t have the heart to gank her. Mind, Sam complained at the beginning, but then I caught him petting her, the softie.”

Crowley obviously doesn’t quite know to do with the observation, so he concentrates on the flee-ridden bull dog that’s supposed to be put down next week again. “In that case…”

Dean grins.

* * *

“Dean” Sam says opening the door of their motel room, “Where have you –“ he stops talking when he sees the dog next to Dean.

“Hey Sammy, looks like you get a pet after all.” The dog growls. “Don’t be like that. Oh, and we should start vetting reports about brain-dead John Does in hospitals. We’re gonna need one.”


End file.
